


A Port in the Storm - Outtakes.

by MyBeautifulDecay



Category: Outlander Series - Diana Gabaldon
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-04-02
Updated: 2016-04-02
Packaged: 2018-05-30 17:49:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,976
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6434335
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MyBeautifulDecay/pseuds/MyBeautifulDecay
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I'd read 'Port' before delving into these, they'll make way more sense if you do :) (just a suggestion).</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Outtake 1

**Author's Note:**

> Ellen needs to come to Claire's rescue...

“Claire…?” Ellen had been watching her for a while, the herbs in her garden had gone unattended for a while, she’d taken to washing the linens instead, complaining that her the smell of the plants turned her stomach.

“…are ye going to come and have some lunch? Ye’ve been out here a while, come, have a break.”

“I’m not hungry, thank you Ellen, I’m just happy to get this laundry finished.”

She shook her head as she continued to pull the shirt through the water to rid it of soap. Ellen took her by the arm, soft but with the undercurrent of firmness that did not allow room for argument.

“Claire, ye must eat lassie. Now, come wi’ me.” Ellen led Claire around the side of the house, under the arch and into the kitchen.

The women sat down at the table, Claire wringing her hands together as Ellen prepared them something to eat.

“How long have ye missed yer courses, Claire lass?” Ellen said without preamble. Claire’s head lifted, quickly, to meet the eyes of the woman she thought of as a surrogate mother. Her breathing quickened, as she counted back in her head.

Ellen waited patiently, she had a feeling she was right, but Claire had yet to make the connection. Whether it was pure ignorance or that she was too scared to contemplate it, she hadn’t come the conclusions Ellen had, yet.

“T-three months. Maybe…” She stuttered, her voice barely audible.

“I thought so. From the look of ye…” Ellen moved to stand in front of Claire, bade her to swivel to face her and placed her hand over Claire’s abdomen.

“Aye. Ye’ll start t’ show soon, I think. Yer maybe three and a half months gone. Just an estimate, ken?”

Claire had suddenly lost all colour, her face a pallid white, her head dipped, watching Ellen’s hands on her belly. She suddenly felt very sick. Of course she’d known something was amiss, she’d just pushed it to the back of her mind in the hopes it might go away.

“Ye need to speak to wee Jamie, he willna be worrit, ye know that, don’t ye Claire?”

There didn’t seem to be enough air in the room for her to fill her lungs and speak, so she simply nodded, trying desperately to hold it together.

“When the pair of ye turned up here with Murtagh, I kent right away how my laddie felt about ye, Claire, he’s loved ye for all that time, probably longer. He’s a smart one, he needs to ken that yer wi’ bairn. Ye needn’t go through this alone, lass. He willna want ye to, and I certainly dinna want that.”

“Yes.” She forced herself to reply.

“I-I’ll tell him, I promise.”

“Good, now, I think ye need to go and rest yerself. There’s a room for ye, already made up, go and have a lie down.” Ellen laid her hand over Claire’s cold, clenched one, in comfort, before nudging her elbow and helping her to stand.

She watch as Claire walked solemnly out of sight. She’d allowed time, and promised herself that she wouldn’t interfere with either her or Jamie, but it seemed that Claire was nowhere close to letting in the possibility of her impending motherhood. Time had been running out. It was better this way, she told herself, now Claire had time to tell Jamie, and, if she knew her son, he’d have time to assuage her fears.

“Ye did the right thing, a ghràidh. Dinna fret.” Her husband always knew the the right things to say, and she lay back against his chest as he came up behind her, laced his arms through hers, and rested his palms against her stomach.

Murtagh pulled up a chair at the table, having followed Brian in from the fields.

“The puir lassie wasn’t any closer to admitting it to herself, ye had to, Ellen. It is better this way. Jamie won’t be too long, we’ll send him up to her. She willna be alone for long”

They all sat in silence for a moment, the two men smiling at Ellen, both understanding where her mind was.

“She willna be in our situation, Ellen. She willna have t’ fight, Jamie already loves her, as ye said to the lassie, she already has us to help. We didna have that, but they will. She’s just scared, she isna promised to anyone and I think she fears the strain this might put on hers and Jamie’s courtship, wi’ it all being so new. But it’ll be put right soon enough, now, I think we all need a wee nip o’ strong whiskey, aye?”

Murtagh dug out some of the better stuff from below the cabinet and passed it to Brian, a small smile on his face. He’d suggested to Jamie that this might happen, but he’d never thought it actually would.

“A toast then, to wee Jamie and his new family!” Though he thought it a little inappropriate that they were all saluting a wee bairn whilst his godson had no clue as to its existence, he still thought it more suitable than anything else.

“Sláinte mhath!” They all chimed together.


	2. Outtake 2.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'd read 'Port' before delving into these, they'll make way more sense if you do :) (just a suggestion).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How the lovers come to be as one in life as well as body. NSFW.

In the run up to their nuptials, Jamie and Claire had little time for each other. Claire was still suffering the last of her morning sickness and Jamie had been pulled from pillar to post in the excitement of preparing Lallybroch. They were both extremely tired.

For the moment, Claire was still living with Murtagh, Ellen and Brian had thought it for the best. They were sure that Claire would be able to cover up the pregnancy in time for the ceremony, and they didn’t want to start any rumours. So every night, she would settle herself in her room and cuddle her pillow close, it wasn’t a replacement for Jamie, but it was as close as she could get to him at the moment.

Her pregnancy was driving her wild, her hormones were all over the place. One moment she’d feel so happy she could sing, the next she’d be wallowing in self pity. Other days she’d need Jamie so badly she thought she might burst, but they’d been forced apart, and she’d had to deal with a lot of these emotions alone. Ellen had done her upmost to be there for Claire, helping her through those long mornings when she couldn’t keep any food down, and picking her up when she felt low, but she needed Jamie. She ached for him, and him alone.

She’d stopped sleeping at night now, instead she chose to sit on her bed and talk to the baby, her hands would caress her small, barely there bump, she would dip her head and she would tell it stories. Only when the sun started to appear on the horizon would she curl up and doze for a few hours, it was easier to sleep alone if she was completely exhausted.

Claire couldn’t work out why it was so imperative that she now have Jamie with her, she’d slept alone her entire life, but now, now it seemed like there was a void, a space where he should be, but wasn’t. She sighed, it wouldn’t be long, she mused, and she wouldn’t have to suffer any longer. They’d be married and able to stay together.

–

Murtagh sat by the fire, poking the embers until they burst into flame once more, he could hear Claire pacing the room and mumbling to herself. She hadn’t slept properly in weeks, and he was beginning to worry. He knew Ellen and Brian were trying to do right by her and wee Jamie, but somehow they’d gotten in too deep too fast, something Brian and Ellen should have been familiar with.

"Claire, lass! Yer aboot to run a hole in that floor if ye dinna relax.“ He muttered to himself, throwing his stick into the flames now, his hands resting on the mantle, his brows furrowed in thought.

There was only going to be one solution, he pondered. He needed to get Jamie and Claire together, no matter the cost. She needed him, now more than ever. The baby wasn’t helping matters either, she’d obviously loved having Ellen as a surrogate mother to help her through, but her body was craving Jamie’s company and his touch.

Ever since their first encounter they’d been drawn to each other, some underlying force that pulled at each of them from the inside. If they were close, they were inevitably connected. Skin on skin, even if it was simply their fingers running against one another. It made him smile, he’d come to see Claire as the daughter he’d never had, and to see her and Jamie so tight, made his heart swell. He was so proud of both of them, and now it was time to let them be, just the two of them.

–

Murtagh closed the door, quietly, behind him and marched up to the big house, the light was still glowing in the windows as he made his way in through the side door. The women were downstairs, knitting in the living room, he waved a quick hello as he made his way up to the study and knocked.

"Aye! Come in.” Brian called, Murtagh pushed his way in, closing the door and leaning against it as he ran his hand over his dirk.

"I think we need to rethink Jamie and Claire, ye ken. She’s restless, she canna sleep. We arena far off the wedding now, what harm would it do t’ let them share a room. I ken that Ellen and her ha’ been bonding, and she’s doing a bonnie job of taking care of the lass, but she needs her man.“

Brian quirked a brow, it must be a serious issue for Murtagh to return to Lallybroch at this hour to discuss it. He had been aware of Jamie’s restlessness, but he was shocked to learn of Claire’s. He’d assumed his son would miss contact with her, but both he and Ellen had thought Claire would be shattered from the bairn, too tired to stay up long into the night, pining. Obviously he’d been wrong.

"I see, but, if word gets out that they’re sharing a bed before their marriage, and then she starts to show…”

"Brian, I think most will already come t’ that conclusion wi'out any need of rumours, do ye no’ think? She’s already beginning t’ show, as well ye and Ellen ken. It willna be long afore she’s round wi’ the bairn, too soon for the wedding to be the night the wee thing wa’…weel, ye ken. Now, we’re just making them suffer, aye?“

Brian sighed and nodded, in his heart he knew Murtagh was right.

"Aye, weel. I guess we are too late to protect them, tell the lad, she can come and stay up here. Less chance anyone will pay any notice in such a large house. We’ll make sure they have their privacy.” He ran his hand through his hair, making it stand on end. How had he not seen this? He’d had his own whirlwind romance, not so long ago. He’d known what it felt like to need a woman so badly, and she to need him.

When Ellen had been round with Jenny, she’d always been needy for his touch, it was becoming more likely that Claire was the same, and by keeping them apart, they’d been inadvertently causing her some stress. Well, he may have missed the signs, but he could put it right.

Murtagh grunted, an affirmation.

"I’ll take him down to collect her, yer doing the right thing by them, Brian. Ye did what anyone else would ha’ done.“ He finished as he clasped his friend on the shoulder and left the study, he knew puir Brian would berate himself for his actions, but he had only been trying to best by his son.

–

Jamie was sitting by the fire, his back slouched against the cushions, his socked feet reaching out towards the warmth. He’d been watching the dust motes dance in the ends of the flames, thinking of what Claire might be up to, missing her, when Murtagh knocked and entered. Startled, he’d twisted and stood, wondering what could be wrong for his godfather to still be here at this hour.

"Is she alright? The bairn?” He stuttered, surely something was amiss?

"Calm yerself, laddie, they’re as well as can be expected! I come bearing some good news, though. Claire’s to move up here, wi’ ye. Is that acceptable?“

Jamie’s eyes lit up, his lips twitched in a near smile.

"Aye, it is…how did ye…?”

"I told yer da, she isna settled now. She was before, but now, wi the baby, she needs ye. He agrees, so, shall we go?“ Murtagh quirked a bushy brow as Jamie reached, suddenly, and pulled his boots on as fast as he was able.

"Aye!” He patted Murtagh on the back as he skittered out of his room, his godfather having to rush to catch up with him.

"Jamie lad! Slow yerself! Ye’ll do yerself an injury running off like that…“ He yelled after him, all the no avail.

"Catch up, old man!” He teased, laughing as he marched off to the little cottage, his hair the only thing visible in the darkness. Murtagh chuckled and shook his head, young love.

–

"Hey! Calm yerself, laddie. I want to go in first, aye. Have a wee chat wi’ her before ye whisk her away, alright?“ Murtagh pulled Jamie’s sleeve as they entered the living room, he wanted nothing more than to allow his godson to tell Claire the news, but he had some things he wanted to say to her first.

Jamie nodded, and took a step back, allowing Murtagh access to the closed door. It was quiet and he wondered whether she’d finally fallen asleep, no matter, she wouldn’t mind being woken for this.

He tapped gently, and waited for her response, he could hear her shuffling about behind the door before she called a timid ‘come in’ out to him. He smiled at Jamie before disappearing into her room.

–

Claire looked up, she was perched on the side of the small cot, her hands resting lightly over her abdomen, slightly swollen now as she started to grow round with the bairn.

"I’m sorry to disturb ye, lass, I just have something I’d like to say to ye, if that’s alright wi’ ye?”

"Of course, what is it?“ She tipped her head to the side, her eyes alight with questions.

"Weel, ever since ye came into our care, I’ve thought of ye like my own, ken? And now, now yer off t’ get marrit. I’m fair grateful that ye and wee Jamie have found each other, but how I think of ye, that willna change. I wanted ye to ken that, aye. I’ll always be here for ye, should ye need me.”

Claire’s eyes had filled with tears, Murtagh had moved and knelt at her feet during his speech and taken hold of her hands, she knew he’d taken special care of her, in lieu of her own parents.

"Oh Murtagh! T-thank you, for looking after me, for everything!“ She lurched forward and hugged him close, he hadn’t been expected it and it took him a while to return it, his arms hanging by his side for a moment before he engulfed her in his arms.

"Claire, lass. I’m sae proud of ye. How ye’ve grown. Ye’d ha’ never accepted Jamie only a few months ago, ye’ll be a truly amazing mother. I have a wee gift for ye, for now and for the wedding.” He pulled back and squeezed her arms gently before pulling out a small pressed bouquet of dried forget-me-nots, intertwined with small tartan strips.

She gasped, as the tears began to fall in earnest. She handled them carefully between her fingers, marvelling at the way he’d managed to keep them looking fresh. The small stems were tied off with string and laced into a neat bow. It was exquisite.

"No’ bad fer a man wi’ great paws, eh!“ He joked, his own eyes glistening with moisture.

"They’re perfect. Thank you.”

"Now, I’ve another wee surprise for ye…Jamie! Come on…“ He called out to his godson, who appeared quickly in the doorway, a massive smile on his face.

"Brian and I, we’ve kent that ye and our wee laddie here arena settled now ye’ve…” he coughed, and blushed a little, “…weel, ye know what. So, keeping ye apart isna really working, is it?”

Jamie shook his head, as Claire looked between the two men. Murtagh stood, and took to Jamie’s side, clasped him on the shoulder tightly, and continued.

"Yer to go up the big house, Claire. Ye and Jamie will be allowed to live as one now, instead o’ waiting until after the wedding. Since yer already wi’ child, it willna matter, and ye might relax some?“

Claire wiped her face and collected herself before standing too, her face was bright, a massive smile formed on her lips as she nodded along. Jamie offered out his hand to her, making sure this was what she truly wanted.

She took it, eagerly. Not wishing to be parted from him any longer, she walked forward into his arms.

"I canna wait to make ye Mrs. Fraser, Claire.” He whispered into her hair. Murtagh laughed and quietly slipped away, they’d make their way back up to Lallybroch when they were ready, he was happy to leave them be.

–

It didn’t take long for Claire to pack up a few necessities, she looked around the little room, feeling a little bit of sorrow in her heart, this had been her first home away from Paris and Murtagh had made it so easy for her to fit in. She would never be able to thank him enough. At least he could have his space back now.

They made their way back to the big house, hand in hand, enjoying the quiet and each other’s company, Jamie had wrapped the plaid shawl around her shoulders, enjoying, as always, seeing her in his tartan.

The house was still as they returned, all candles all extinguished, Jamie led Claire to his rooms, excited to have her with him. The fire was still burning brightly, as she stood nervously on the threshold. She’d waited for this moment, and now, here she was, filled with apprehension and suppressed nerves.

Jamie, noticing her idling, stood by the flames and held his arms open to her.

“Sassenach, c'mere…please…“ His eyes, lit bright blue from the glowing embers, twinkled with mischief. He looked a little like his father, Claire smiled, dipped her head and shuffled into his arms, burrowing against his chest.

–

Eventually they settled, Claire sat in the chair with Jamie between her legs, his large hands resting against her belly. She was drifting in and out of sleep, finally relaxed, her heart thudded lazily in her chest, and a dreamy smile adorned her lips.

He watched her, eyes bright, fingers twitching against her abdomen. She still had her corset and skirts on.

"C'mon, mo Sorcha, ye need to get out of these clothes, then we can get t’ bed.” He tugged on the thick fabric of her top skirt as she shifted, and slowly stood. He helped her remove everything but her shift as he rubbed and massaged the aches out of her muscles, along her arms, her shoulders, the hollows of her spine and the beautiful curve of her neck.

Only a few nights before his father had told him something, that his fingers and his tongue could be as much a pleasure to Claire as his cock, ever since, every time he looked at her, he envisaged what she would look like if he was touching her that way. How she might move, the noises she might make and he ached to see it.

"Why are you looking at me like that?“ She asked quizzically, her cheeks pinking, partly in the heat of the room, partly due to his staring.

"Nothing…” He licked his dry lips and dipped his eyes for a moment. He reached his hand up and tugged at her wrist, “…sit, a ghràidh, let me massage yer feet for ye.”

She did as she was bid, and sat, her legs either side of him, her shift still covering most of her. He’d have to get her into a more comfortable state before he attempted anything, else he knew she’d be too scandalised to let him try.

He knelt down, picked one ankle up, gently, and started to rub circles over the underside of her foot, kissing along her calf as he went. She slumped in the chair, ever so slightly, and continued to do so with every deep move his thumbs made against her tender skin. Calmly, she lifted her hand and started running similar patterns through his hair, he hummed in appreciation as he carefully kissed up and along the base of her thigh, moving the fine material up and up with every subtle inch.

She seemed completely at ease now, her legs lay floppy against each side of the chair, Jamie peeked a look up at her, her head had fallen slightly to the left, held up by a cushion, her eyes were mostly closed. He smiled, if he was slow and soft he could manoeuvre himself into the right position without her noticing. He pushed up on his knees, ran his hands along the inside of her thighs, making the soft hairs there rise, his thumbs kept up their circular movements as he kissed her once more, using his tongue to caress her.

She let out a contented breath as her left leg came to wrap around his shoulder, he looped his arm underneath it now, and held her close as he dipped his head, moving the final bit of her shift up, exposing her to him. With a hand on one thigh and an arm wrapped around her other leg, he leant forward, his lips meeting her heated skin.

She almost jumped from the chair, the muscles in her lower body all seemed to clench in one swift movement. Her mouth fell open and a groan escaped her as she felt Jamie’s tongue against her, her hands, which had been loosely draped in his curly locks, now gripped, furiously, at them. Her back arched. She should have been horrified, what was he doing? He shouldn’t be between her legs like this! But the bolts of pleasure rushing through her overwhelmed the part of her that felt so utterly embarrassed, the sensation of his tongue running along those most intimate parts of her, that pushed all thoughts of impropriety out of her mind as she held him there. Her muscles twitched and pulsed and as she pushed her hips from the soft material under her, he moaned against her, sending her into spasms. Her heart seemed to push painfully against her chest, beating a fast but unsteady rhythm as she twisted and writhed above him.

Her skin was flushed from head to toe as she let out a breathy moan and fell, with a small thump, back. Her legs shaking from the exertion of having them taut for so long. Jamie sat still, panting against her but waiting for her to fully come round before moving.

“Take me to bed, Jamie…” He almost didn’t hear her over the roaring in his ears, his eyes snapped up to meet her, they were still closed, but she had the most wonderful smile on her face.

He rose, dragging his fingers over the still warm, trembling flesh of her legs, until he reached her shift and pulled it back down to cover her once more. Her hands came forward, lazily, after they’d fallen to her sides in the aftermath.

Jamie bent forward, holding his forehead against hers, letting her hands come now to rest either side of his face. Her eyes opened and she looked at him with a dreamy expression, the deep whiskey colour swimming with warmth and glazed with a far off look. He couldn’t tear himself away.

He was so lost in her that he failed to notice her hands tugging at his belt, having moved from his face, she still hadn’t regained full use of her limbs, and her fingers fumbled with the metal buckle until it finally fell away, hitting the floor with a solid clunk which echoed through the silent room.

His eyes widened as he pulled away, slightly, his kilt dropping but still sitting loosely on his hips. She laughed, her hands now finding their way under the fabric, tugging at the billowing plaid.

“Claire, ye dinna need to, yer surely tired. I’m…you dinna need to fash yersel’ aboot it…” Her legs had risen once more, and wrapped snuggly around his waist, one of her hands had finally made it to its intended destination and was running along the length of him, if she kept this up he wouldn’t be able to hold back, but at the back of his mind he knew she must be sleepy.

“Jamie…to bed, please?” She punctuated each of her words by tightening her grip on him and then slackening off again, his hips flexed forward, his thighs quivering with the effort of holding him up, and his cock, that was doing most of the thinking for him now.

Claire smiled as she managed to get the kilt to fall to the floor, removing her hand from him just for a moment to allow it to drop, her legs helping to push the tartan away.

“Come on, Jamie…I need you…” She stood then, forcing him to step away. She untied the lace fastening of her shift and let it drop, the fabric flowing noiselessly over the swell of her breasts and down over her hips. Jamie’s eyes followed its movement until it floated to the floorboards and sat in a pool at her feet. Only then did he allow himself to look her over, she began to step, cautiously, backwards until her legs met the bed. Instead of stopping, though, she sat down, placed her hands either side of her and pushed herself into the centre of the bed, holding eye contact the entire time.

Jamie swallowed, loudly, watching her as she laid herself down, now he could only see her legs, he moved, soundlessly and quickly, over, removing his shirt as he went, getting it tangled around his head, but finally throwing it aside, to join the pile of white that was once wrapped around Claire.

“Sassenach…” He whispered, glancing over her prostrate form. Her legs, splayed, lay with one foot flat on the bed, the other at an angle against the soft linens, leaving her fully open to him. Her arms sat aside her head, her palms faced up to the ceiling, her hair slightly covering them. She rolled her hips, her back lifting from the sheets for a moment, her eyelids, half open, half closed, fluttered as she watched him. Her lips twitched, forming a smile as her tongue peeked out to moisten them.

“What are you waiting for, Jamie? I need you…take me…” He let out a huge breath, his hands clenched, all the blood in his body seemed to relocate to his groin. He was virtually humming, his whole body wound tight. She was glorious, so beautiful, like a blossoming flower. From this angle he could see the small swell the bairn had caused, the rise and fall of her chest, her breasts, slightly larger now, bobbed with the movement. He swallowed, again.

Starting with her toes, he began to kiss and caress every inch of her, the underside of her foot, along her calf, behind her knee and up her thigh. When he reached the top he took one long moment to take her in, his tongue savouring the taste of her, sweat and woman. She bucked and moaned at his touch, sighing his name in prayer. Moving over her hip, he nipped and licked, her skin rippling with gooseflesh now. He kept going, finally reaching her breasts, he used one hand to massage her right nipple whilst his mouth suckled on the left, taking it under his tongue. Her legs locked around his hips then, as she dragged him to the centre of her, pleading with her body, begging him, he had no choice.

He thrust forward in one solid pulse of his hips, she swivelled hers up to meet his as his mouth dropped her nipple and his head fell, his forehead now resting on the collarbone as he gasped for breath. Her hands now found his hair once more, pulling at him, losing her gentleness, she needed his lips against hers. He obliged as fast as he was able, letting out a grunt in effort as he pushed her into the mattress, their mouths now dancing along with their hips.

The room was filled with the meeting of their flesh, soft sounds that rebounded off the walls, mingling with their sighs and moans of pleasure. Jamie stuttered as his heart skipped a beat and his thighs shook, crying out he let his arms bend and fall as he collapsed and rolled to the side, Claire shook and held him against her as he slowly came back to himself.

“M-mo Sorcha…a…Dhia! I love ye…” He whispered into the hollow of her neck as she stroked the fine hairs on his chest, his breathing evening out as he fell into a deep sleep.

“You too…Seamus ruaidh…” She returned, joining him in slumber, her stunted Gaelic becoming even more mispronounced in her fatigue.


End file.
